


50-70-50

by Caffinated_Story



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: 50-70-50 word fic, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-23
Updated: 2018-11-24
Packaged: 2019-08-28 04:27:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 1,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16716575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caffinated_Story/pseuds/Caffinated_Story
Summary: A small collection of 'haiku'-style fics; 3 paragraphs consisting of 50 - 70 - 50 words. The concept came from the Hetalia OLDS' Discord server.Each chapter is a new 50-70-50 word fic with different characters/settings.





	1. To Not Disappear

“Can you keep a secret?” Norway's words are barely above a whisper as they sit huddled together in the dim light, the soft glow of the fire's embers only illuminating their feet.  
“Of course,” Denmark whispers in return as he pulls the thick woolly blanket tighter around them both.

 

“Sometimes I wish to just disappear,”  
The words send a chill down Denmark's spine, but he also feels how the words strike him to the very core. Days have been too long recently, the nights even more so. Denmark understands. War takes a toll on them all.  
“I do to. Sometimes,” he whispers softly in return. Too scared to say it too loudly, should his wish suddenly come true. 

 

“I won't disappear,” Norway mumbles and leans his head against Denmark's shoulder. “Not yet. Not as long as you're here,” he adds and the chill in the room seems to disappear just ever so slightly.  
“Sounds like a good deal,” Denmark laughs. “I won't go until you do either.”


	2. Time

He counts the people walking across the square; loosing count every so often for only to start anew. It's not really important to know how many there are – it's just to pass time. Let his eyes wander over all the people. Breathe in the atmosphere of people having fun.

People are his lifeblood. People and cities make him feel alive, young even if there's enough of them. France doesn't want to feel his age. Doesn't wish to succumb to loneliness or the onset of time. It wears on him very little when he can sit beside younger generations and drink wine like he's one of them. It keeps him young. Makes him enjoy this odd immortal life he leads.

However, some days he'll find a group of old people, sit beside them and share a cigarette. Muse about the old days along with them and recite old tales with a laugh.  
Because while he doesn't wish age to catch up to him, he doesn't wish the memories to fade.


	3. Red Like Flowers

“They're so pretty,” Canada laughs as Netherlands hands him the annual bouquet of colourful tulips. “Perhaps even better than last years batch!” he adds with a smile as he buries his face in the flowers.  
“You say that every year,” Netherlands sighs, but he can't quite hide his own smile.

“Doesn't make it any less true,” Canada smiles and sets about putting the bouquet into a vase. The vase was once a gift too; Netherlands had it especially made when Canada had one year jokingly lamented that since the bouquets got bigger every year he would need a bigger vase too soon. He's never seen him use the vase for anything else but the tulip bouquets Netherlands gifts him.

“Well...” Netherlands clears his throat, glad it's just the two of them. “It's symbolic...” he wishes he'd be a little more composed doing this, but he's not. “Since every year my love grows, so should the bouquet, right?” he smiles; pleased to see that Canada's blush matches the red tulips.


	4. Family

It's easy to resort to harsh words and a loud tone. Easy to hide behind a wall of anger. It's not his real feelings. Not at all. Their bond won't be broken so easily – they both know that. Italy will always be Italy. North and South. They're still brothers. 

They may argue and fight. He might even yell at him. But deep down Veneziano is still his brother. Romano simply shows his appreciation in other ways. The best wine will always be brought out when his bother comes to visit. The best food. There will be plenty of it all – no expense spared on such things. Family is important after all, and when words fail; food will not.

However; one gesture sticks out the most. And that is that no matter how many years pass, he still keeps it. The very first painting Veneziano ever made. It was a gift to him, and after all these years it's still there. A little worn and dusty. But still there.


	5. Cold Dark - Warm Stars

Romania likes the dark; the less light the better. He claims it's because he can see the stars better like this, but Netherlands suspects there's more to it really. The stars are an added bonus for sure, but with darkness also comes cold; slowly creeping closer to engulf them both.

With no fire, because that would ruin the darkness, there's little else to do but huddle close together for warmth. Romania fills the silence with chatter – names of stars and their meaning or significance. Netherlands seldom regards them as anything else but ways to navigate the seas, but he'd be lying if he said he didn't like the sound of Romania's voice or the closeness the darkness grants them,

He doesn't love the dark like Romania does. But he likes what darkness means to them when they're together. The few hours when it's just them, the stars above their heads and the dark silence; it is a time where Netherlands can truly feel all the tension leave his body.


	6. Whisper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for the 50-70-50 fic prompts on the Hetalia Writer's Discord. Prompt was "Whisper"

Some days silence can be healing, other days it feels stifling – as if it drowns him. Norway is the one who always seems to be the most comfortable in silence; sometimes barely breaking it even with short and soft whispers. His voice can be like a warm summer's wind.

Denmark knows he's louder – more like rolling thunder and gale force winds; Norway has told him so often enough that he knows it to be the truth. But Norway is so much more than a soft whisper. Norway can be unmoving and tough like the mountains; stubborn and hard to sway no matter how much the winds may try to move him. Denmark admires that quality in him greatly.

Some days he tries to be like Norway; he'll lower his voice and try to embody the same calm but cold fire that burns ever-bright in Norway's eyes. He never quite manages to stay as silent for as long as Norway; but Norway would never expect him to do so.


	7. Trusted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for the 50-70-50 fic challenge from the Hetalia Writers Discord. Prompt: Trusted.

Back to back; a familiar feeling through countless wars and battles, every movement synced in perfect harmony. One would think this was rehearsed. But no battle this bloody can ever be planned. Not to such minute and careful details. Only centuries of experience together renders a fight this perfectly streamlined. 

Sweden doesn't have to wonder if Denmark will block an incoming blow; he knows he will. Just how Denmark knows Sweden in turn will deflect the arrows that rain down on them. They don't have to worry about their back when they have each other’s. There's unwavering trust between them as they raise their weapons. Hesitation has no place on the battlefield, they both bear deep scars to prove that. 

Time hardens them all, and neither need to speak a word of gratitude. A swing, a jump, a quick dodge – metal on metal ringing out over the blood-soaked field; there's no need to think. Just let old instincts take over their bodies and propel them both forward to victory.


	8. River

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for the 50-70-50 fic challenge from the Hetalia Writers Discord. Prompt: River

“Pretty neat, isn't it?” Finland grins as he kicks off his shoes and takes a seat by the water, sticking his feet into the freezing cold river as if it was a nice mid-summer day and not the biting cold November winter. “Well,” Sweden mumbles as he takes a seat. 

“It's peaceful at least,” he finally says, and Finland beams with pride; kicking his feet in the water with great glee. Sweden doesn't quite dare take his shoes and socks off, let alone stick his feet into the icy water, but he'll happily sit next to Finland nonetheless. The sound of water slowly running by is calming to his soul, even if the cold chills him to the bone.

“Maybe we can go for a swim in the lake later?” Finland suggests with a sly wink. “It's pretty good weather for a swim today!” his warm laugh a bright contrast to the biting cold around them. “You're mad,” Sweden chuckles. “But I love you, ice cold feet and all.”


	9. Illusion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for the Hetalia Writers Discord challenge. Prompt: Illusion

The air sparkles and shimmers; it seems to be filled with heat and ice all at once as Norway weaves his hands through it with precision and grace. To untrained eyes he might appear to be simply dancing, but England knows it's so much more than that. Norway weaves magic.

It only takes a few seconds, and then little creatures will appear. Illusions and shadows become real; substantial things you can touch, feel and hear. England can't help but reach out and take their hand. He knows the risks of course – not everything Norway summons will treat them with kindness. However; it's a risk worth taking. They glimmer so beautifully in the low light, their dances mesmerising and captivating. 

Their songs are sad but beautiful. The kind that reaches into your soul and digs it's claws deep inside you – leaving scars that may never fully heal. “Careful,” Norway whispers and carefully blows a creature away. The illusion is too real, but England doesn't want the spell to end.


	10. Bitter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for the Hetalia Writers Discord challenge. Prompt: Bitter

He spits at Denmark's feet; blood and bile, a bitter and distasteful mix that matches his feelings perfectly. There's nothing but anger and betrayal in his eyes. Sweden makes no move; but steels his body for another blow. There will be much more blood from both before the night ends.

“You want a war?” Denmark's words are so cold and harsh, but Sweden won't falter now. “If that's what it will take, then let it be so,” he replies, wiping blood from the corner of his mouth as he sneers up at Denmark. The Lion from the North won't back down from this alone; Sweden has made up his mind, and nothing Denmark does or says can change it now.

“I don't want to fight you, brother,” Denmark pleads, but Sweden knows it's all lies; his bloodied knuckles and curled lip speak the real truth. Denmark won't give up until Sweden begs him to, and Sweden has no intention of taking a kneel in front of Denmark ever again.


End file.
